Pirates of the Caribbean: Captain of the Damned
by cyle
Summary: Norrington is not pleased when another pirate comes to commandeer his ship. He is even less pleased to find her in his office searching his files. However, it seems that in the face of new evil "piracy itself is the right course."


Prologue 1

The sun beat down on the deck, warming the air into a blistering heat. The deck itself was sizzling and sending of waves of heat of its own. The crew sat around, lounging casually against barrels or crates, mending ropes or talking. They waited for the wind to rise again and take them forward to Jamaica. A whole day they had been drifting and they didn't seem too worried. "I' 'appensh" is what Ol'Jim said, with a shrug of his bony shoulder. "It'sh when she wa'er goesh flat shat y' go' 'o shtart worrying" he had added with a grin, revealing an almost toothless gape.

Helena Jane Reed stood at the bow, looking intently out at the wide expanse of water that surrounded her. She watched the horizon, keeping a lookout for a much awaited breeze. Some of the sailors would call up to her asking if she spotted a breeze coming their way yet. She smiled and answered: "I see nothing but a cloud of dust in the sun and the green grass." At which they all laughed and said she must be far sighted to already see the green grass of Jamaica.

"We should put you up in the crow's nest. You'll make a fine lookout."

At this I turned around and smiled at the sailor.

"Don't you know the story of Blue Beard and his seven wives?"

"'E 'ad _seven_ wives? Caw. A pity the man. One's enou' fer me and A on'y see her half a year!"

The men guffawed, shouting varying degrees of agreement.

"He didn't have them all at the same time. In fact that's what the story's about. Do you want me to tell it to you?"

There was a resounding cry of 'Aye!' and Helena settled herself on a pile of crates so that all could hear her.

"There was once a man who had fine houses, both in town and country, a deal of silver and gold plate, embroidered furniture, and coaches gilded all over with gold. But this man was so unlucky as to have a blue beard, which made him so frightfully ugly that all the women and girls ran away from him…"

The sailors laughed roughly. They sniggered appreciatively when it came to imitating Blue Beard's rough voice. However it seemed that when the heroine discovered the bloody corpses of her predecessors, a buzz of indignant anger broke from the listeners. Apparently, you didn't kill women even if they were mad and nagged you senseless. You just didn't.

"Moral", Helena concluded, "Curiosity, in spite of its appeal, often leads to deep regret. To the displeasure of many a maiden, its enjoyment is short lived. Once satisfied, it ceases to exist, and always costs dearly. Another moral", she added with a satisfied smirk, "Apply logic to this grim story and you will ascertain that it took place many years ago. No husband of our age would be so terrible as to demand the impossible of his wife, nor would he be such a jealous malcontent. For, whatever the colour of her husband's beard, the wife of today will let him know who the master is."

The rowdy bunch laughed appreciatively at this last conclusion and applauded.

"What is all this ruckus about? I know we are all weary of drifting but it is no excuse to…" Captain Carter paused as he considered the present assembly gathered around Helena.

"Ah. Miss Reed. Somehow I should have suspected you were behind this noise," the captain said with a rueful smile. Helena lifted her chin and regarded him defiantly down her -it must be conceded- very aristocratic nose.

And, by some miracle, the wind decided to choose that precise moment to pick up again. There was pregnant pause in which everyone revelled in the sweeping feel of wind on their face and relief in their hearts. Then Captain Carter barked some orders, startling all the men into action.

"Furl the sails! Lieutenant Harper, take the helm!"

When he seemed satisfied by the amount of activity on deck he turned to Helena. A small, affectionate smile graced his features.

"Entertaining the crew, I see. What would your mother think?"

"What does my mother ever think?" Helena shot back with a roll of her eyes, half-amused, half-exasperated. Captain Carter raised an eyebrow at her.

"You should not be so disrespectful of your parents. Not to them and certainly not in front of strangers."

"You are hardly a stranger, captain. Besides I give respect where it is due. I respect my father very much, I'll have you know. He is a good, honourable man. He does not believe in propriety to the extent that it should suffocate. Lord knows why he married mother," Helena reflected with a small frown, more to herself than the captain. Carter cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the girl's honesty. He considered her intently then seemed to come to a conclusion.

"You are a very wilful child, Miss Reed. You will be very strong in character. Some men admire that in a woman."

"Others do not," Helena said grimly. Captain Carter smiled mirthlessly knowing only to well that she was right. He did not understand how a child – barely twelve – could be so mature.

In the brief amount of time since their departure from Bristol, two weeks prior, Helena Jane Reed, only daughter of Lord Nicholas Reed and Lady Beatrice Reed, had proven herself to be an intelligent, curious, witty and altogether delightful child. She had also improved Carter's definition of wilful, stubborn, defiant and mischievous. However, even what he deemed the Galley Fiasco did not lessen his high regard for the child and he envied the man who would take her as his wife. It is true that her features had no great beauty. One could go so far as to call her plain if not for her brilliant smile which seemed to outshine the sun itself. But Carter had long realised that beauty was not what was important in a wife, well at least no wife of his. Miss Reed possessed the strength of character he longed so desperately in a woman.

_And of course the only person who seems to possess an ounce of common sense happens to be twenty years younger and above my station to boot. The irony is almost tragic, _thought Carter, grim-faced. He turned to Miss Reed.

"Perhaps it is best you go below deck to keep company to your mother, Miss Reed."

"I thought I had made my opinion of the matter quite clear, Captain Carter," Helena stated, with a piercing look. "Besides, I wish to feel the wind on my face. It has been too long without a cool breeze."

Carter chuckled.

"Then I imagine that you would go mad quite quickly if you were caught in a depression."

"A what?" Helena frowned.

"When there is no wind for days on end, sometimes for weeks. And the day is so calm that there is not so much as a stir in the air and the water is as smooth as glass. They say that when the water is so smooth you can look down into the depth all the way to Davey Jones Locker. Perhaps it is true, I do not know. For many a man has gone mad in such times, madness to the point of death. Others starve. It is a time when captains fear mutiny the most."

Helena shuddered and Captain Carter mentally cursed himself for frightening her unnecessarily.

"But that is not likely to happen to us," he smiled reassuringly. "Tis not the season for calm winds. If you will excuse me," he said, bowing shortly before heading for the quarterdeck.

Helena regarded him as he made his way to the helm. She liked the captain's stoicism and calm. And his good humour. He was stern but fair with his crew and made the effort of knowing there names and a least one personal fact in their lives. All agreed he was a good captain, as good as you could get in the navy and the crew were grateful to be under his command. Yes, he had earned her respect, and when that silly wig was removed and she had made him laugh that first night from Bristol he had gained her friendship.

Helena turned away and wandered back to the bow, trailing her fingers lovingly along the rail. She loved life at sea. She loved the activity on deck, the movement of the crew; a paradox of calm and bustle. The feeling of purpose that comes with travel, the sense of destination to new and wonderful things left her tingling with anticipation. She had made a valiant effort to learn the ways of a ship, but there was so much, so much and so little time before… Before they arrived in Port Royal and she would find herself once again land ridden and betrothed to boot. She sighed heavily and leaned on the prow, just above the figurehead of a beautiful mermaid. Gazing out at the ocean, at the endless, deep blue horizon, she pondered on her life. Her meaningless existence. Well, perhaps not so meaningless when viewed from her mother's point of view. She was the key to a very propitious alliance: a marriage between herself and Lord Admiral Edgar Raleigh. Every time she thought of her prospective husband she felt ill. She felt like screaming and rampaging and destroying everything in sight. Perhaps if she did they would claim rabies and she would never fear being married again. Ha. Wishful thinking. Marriage is the only ambition for a young girl of high birth, and once she is, her career is producing an heir. Helena found it ironic that with all her wealth and riches, her dresses and jewels, her education and privileges, she still had so much to envy of those maids and laundry women and lower class girls. Because they had to work for a living, find a place in this harsh world, fight for their piece of life. Helena could not desire more than to find a place in this world from her own merits, her own toil and sweat, her own fight. Because as she saw it that was real freedom. Not society and propriety and wealth. That was all deceit and hypocrisy. But no one listened to her. Well, father did, but he would rationalize and tell her that yes, society was all those things but it was also a system, a balance. They were more poor than rich, indeed, and the poor seemed to do all the hard work. But the rich protected them, and the rich guided their morals, and the rich brought progress in technology to alleviate their work. Father did not understand that sometimes one had to stop looking at the world through rational eyes and just feel. And what Helena felt was that she did not belong where she was sailing towards; marriage, society, gossip and fashion, those were not for her.

However, Helena turned abruptly away from the ship railing and marched towards the stairs to the lower deck, she did not have any say in the matter and she was not silly enough to try a fugue. As she walked down the hall of the tween deck, she saw the, um, impressive figure of her mother coming towards her rapidly.

"Helena! How kind of you to finally grace us with your presence. Your brothers have awoken from their afternoon nap and I need your help. I don't want them to go on deck and bother Captain Carter. And I want _you_ to behave as well. Do you realise how much of a bad influence you are on their fragile minds? They'll never learn what's right from wrong if their elder _sister _can't behave in a proper fashion. I really don't know what to do about you Helena. I am at the end of my tether. You only have two weeks to act like a decent young woman for Admiral Raleigh. And look at you face! All that time in the sun! Why, you could pass for a common mulatto!" she exclaimed, grabbing Helena's chin roughly and tilting her face from side to side for inspection, then steering her roughly towards their cabins.

"Don't exaggerate, mother," Helena muttered sullenly. "Has it never occurred to you I might not want to impress your dear Admiral?"

Lady Beatrice stopped and spun Helena brutally by the arm towards her, pulling her close so their faces were a mere inch apart. She clasped Helena's arm so tightly it was painful and she was sure her blood had stopped flowing.

"I will not tolerate anymore of your impertinence. You are incredibly privileged to be betrothed to such a man as Lord Raleigh, so I will have none of this ingratitude. You _will_ make a good impression and you _will_ show you have the proper manners I have painfully tried to grind into you. Is that quite clear?"

Helena held her furious stare for a few seconds, more out of pride than true opposition. She could do nothing against her mother's will, for it was her father's will too and she knew he knew what was best for her. They both did. So she finally dropped her eyes in surrender.

"Yes, mother," Helena replied with meek resignation. Her mother peered at her intently before giving a satisfied nod and walking off to her cabin. Helena followed behind, silent as the grave, deciding that, since her life would be nothing but emptiness in the future she might as well get used to it now.

.:x:.

It was a mere four days after Helena had finally given in to her fate when the cry of "Sail Ho!" came to her ears, as she rested in her favourite spot at the bow. She looked up curious, for it was the first sign of life other than the _Endeavour_ that they had come across since their departure from Bristol. She looked out on the port side where a majestic black ship with billowing white sails was rapidly approaching. She climbed down to the main deck and crossed to clamber up the quarterdeck. Captain Carter stood at the port side, a spy lense held to his eyes.

"Aha! They're hoisting their colours. It's a… Wha-?" Very slowly, Carter lowered the lense and stared at the approaching ship with a completely blank expression. His face had gone quite pale and Helena was sure he was going to be sick. Finally, he spoke.

"It's the Jolly Roger," he said, his voice quiet, but his eyes betraying deeply troubled thoughts.

Helena gasped and spun to watch the ship approaching, wide-eyed. She could barely make out the black flag whipping in the wind at the top of the main mast. She felt the ghostly hand of fear clench around her heart and a sick wrenching feeling started in her gut.

"What is your plan of action, Captain?" queried Lieutenant Harper.

Captain Carter studied the approaching ship with a look of indifferent consideration.

"In normal circumstances I would put up resistance. However, we have women and children on board. I cannot risk open fire. Hoist the white flag!" was the final verdict.

Helena spun around to face him, looking horrified.

"You can't do that!"

Carter turned to peer at her, one eyebrow raised.

"Can I not? I believe I am the captain on this ship, Miss Reed. You have no place to question my orders." He proceeded to climb down to the main deck. Helena followed him, a ball of sizzling fury.

"You must fight them! It does not matter that we are on board! Why should you change your course of action because of us!" she expostulated.

Carter spun around to face her, looking impassive.

"Because it is my duty to protect you and I cannot ensure your safety if I open fire. Therefore, we will give whatever this pirate wants in return for our lives."

Helena was about to protest again when she felt a hand on her shoulder. He looked up to see her father staring gravely down at her. She lowered her gaze to the deck and stayed silent.

"Lord Reed. I want you and your family to remain below deck. Lock yourselves in your cabin. I will knock three times slowly then twice quickly when all is safe."

Lord Reed nodded and guided Helena back down to their cabin. He herded everyone into the parent cabin and locked the door. Then, they waited.

It seemed like an eternity before the sound of another ship pulling in next to theirs came to her ears. Then another eternity while they waited for some sign of what was occurring above. As the seconds ticked by the pressure of fear and anticipation felt heavier and heavier, and all she wanted to do was walk out there and _do_ something, anything. But she stayed still, knowing full well what a foolish thing it would be to go out there, as the sickening sense of dread swamped her.

She felt almost relieved when she heard the violent noises coming down the hall towards their cabin. Her fear grew as it slowly drew closer, until it exploded as a dull thudding sounding came at their door. She was left with nothing but a strong desire to act, to _fight_. Her mother and brothers were cowering in the furthest corner from the door. Her father stood proudly in the middle of the room, clearly shaken and fearful, but ready to die honourably. Helena's eyes darted around the cabin. They fell on a gun hidden behind the toilet cabinet. Without questioning its presence there, she slid over and discreetly hid it in her skirt. The thuds were louder and finally the cabin door burst open. Three pirates stepped in, dressed in rags and grime. One was a tall black man, with golden hoops in his ears which did not fit with his otherwise decrepit appearance. One was short, balding and toothless. The last was thin and lanky with what appeared to be a wooden eye.

"Well, well. What 'ave we got 'ere?" said the bald man. "Seems to me you lot should be up on deck, paying your respect to the captain."

"Your _captain_ does not deserve our respect," father declared, and promptly found himself on the less sociable side of a gun.

"Well, we'll see about that when you meet him, eh?" At which declaration he motioned them through the door. The two others nudged them forwards with their cutlasses. Helena found herself to be in a somewhat focused peace now that something was happening. The dread was still there lying low but no longer paralysing her.

They walked onto the main deck, where the crew were being tied to the mainmast. Captain Carter had his hands bound and was facing a tall exuberantly dressed man. If her situation had been less dire, Helena would have found the fancy feathered hat quite ridiculous. The bald pirate motioned them to line up before what obviously was their captain. The dandy gave them a brilliant smile – which included several flashes of gold – and walked casually over to where they were standing.

"Ah! Here are your famous guests. I wonder why they are so important that you are prepared to give us everything for their lives. However I must say I have never seen so fair a lady in all my years," he declared, kissing Lady Reed's hand. Helena couldn't help it. She smirked, but quickly wiped it off her face at Captain Carter's glower.

The pirate captain turned to Helena's father and his eyebrows rose.

"Ah, I see. Lord Nicholas Reed, I believe? What a prize, I must say. Worth more than all the gold on this ship, I can imagine." He drew his cutlass from his sash and pointed it at Lord Reed's chest. "I believe, Captain… Carter, is it? I believe I shall disregard your offer and take the fairer prize."

At which point Helena stepped between her father and the pirate, pointing the gun right between his eyes.

"Let my father go," she said quietly.

The pirate looked at her first in surprise then amusement. There was a trio of "Helena"s in the background, one, she was astounded to note, came from Captain Carter. She ignored them and fixed the pirate.

"Let my father go," she repeated, more firmly.

"Do you really believe you are in a position to negotiate, missy? Any one of these pirates could kill you for your foolish, if somewhat brave, actions."

"Not before I kill you," she stated simply. "And don't believe I won't. The question is; do you want to die now or at a later date? I don't care personally. It's your life, not mine."

The pirate studied her, then chuckled.

"But my dear, you forget I _am_ a pirate. I do not just sail away without some treasure, death threat or no. What do you propose?"

"Take all the jewels and riches you want, for all I care. We can afford to lose them." She shrugged.

"Not all treasure is silver and gold, my dear."

She considered this, tilting her head to the side.

"Very well, then. You can have me."

There were shouts of protest from everywhere but foremost was Captain Carter.

"No, Helena, don't be foolish! You don't know what you're doing!" he stepped forward but was stopped as a gun was pointed under his nose. Helena lowered the hammer of her gun with an ominous click in the silence that followed.

"Let my father and Captain Carter go. And the whole ship for that matter. In return you have me."

"And what, pray, should I do with you? Dress you up and put you on my shelf for collection?" the pirate snorted derisively.

"Is the intended wife of Lord Admiral Raleigh not valuable enough for you, Captain?"

The pirate's eyes gleamed. The slow smile that curled his lips was demoniac and greedy.

"I believe we have an accord, Miss…Reed, I assume?" he extended his right hand to shake the agreement. Helena shook it awkwardly with my left never dropping her aim with the gun.

Then, with a slow smile, she pulled the trigger. The pirate's eyes widened with fear and nearly all his men made a sudden lurch forward. But the only sound was an empty click.

"Bang," she whispered in the dead silence that followed.

The pirate's eyes were wide with the clear expression of someone who has been bamboozled and has no idea what to make of it. And then slowly, he started to laugh. The rest of his crew joined in.

"You are an extraordinary girl, Miss Reed. You would make a fine pirate."

"I shall take that as a compliment," she replied smoothly.

"Do, do," the pirate chuckled.

Helena started moving forward but a hand on her shoulder prevented her.

"No. You can't take my child. You can't take my Helena," her father's grief-stricken voice tore her heart to pieces.

"We have an agreement, father." Her voice shook as Helena spoke. She looked up at him. "You told me to always hold to my promises."

"But he is a pirate!"

"None the less. Your life or mine, father. I would rather die than see you in the hands of pirates." She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and stepped towards the side of the ship were a plank led to the other ship. She did not turn around to see her mother's tears, or her father's horrified expression. She ignored Captain Carter's protests and the threats of the pirate who held him at gunpoint. She followed the pirate captain across the plank. Once on his deck, he turned to her and bowed with a flourish.

"Welcome aboard the Black Pearl, my lady. I am Captain Kirk at your service."

The pirates on the other ship looked at their captain expectantly.

"Do we loot the holds, cap'n?" one asked.

"No. I agreed to let the whole ship go in exchange for Miss Reed and the whole ship will go, not a penny less. Get back here, you bunch of scallywags!" he ordered.

The rest of the crew filed back, muttering under the breath about 'no shares in one little girl' and 'too young anyway'. Helena tried not to think of the implications of that last comment. She was counting on her childish body, to young to be appealing, to avoid any unwanted… attentions, but she was never guarantied safety. She had heard… She didn't want to think of it. It made her feel sick. The fear was welling inside her again and she was sure she was going to faint or cry. She forced down her panic. She concentrated on breathing which suddenly seemed like a much more complicated business than before.

"Take her to the brig, Ragetti, Pintel. The rest of you, back to work!" With that final order he walked off with a young Spanish looking man with a red bandana around his head.

Helena was seized roughly by the elbows and shoved down the stairs all the way down into the belly of the ship. They threw her unmercifully into the brig and lock the metal cage door. She kneeled on the hard wooden floor for a while listening for fading footsteps. They didn't come.

"I know you're still out there," she said loudly. "If you think I'm going to cry in front of you, you're wrong. I'll do my wailing in privacy, thank you."

She heard some muttering behind the door, then some heavy footsteps departing and finally the heavy silence of solitude.

The silence stretched, taut and painful. She battled the crashing waves of fear and despair and grief that welled inside her like a sea in Hell. She tried to ride the storm, to find some calm in her panicked soul. Her heart beat accelerated until she felt it would explode. She closed her eyes tight as though to prevent the inevitable tide of grief swelling in her heart.

Then the silence was shattered by a sob so hoarse the small part of her not immersed in grief and fear could not believe she had made such an inhuman sound. Yet it came again and again tearing her throat, rising in jerks and hiccoughs. She found herself curled on the floor, head buried into her knees, arms tight around her legs. She cried her heart out, panicked thoughts crashing through her head. _I'll never see father, or Jeremy, or Samuel again. Or mother. Oh mother! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I was so cruel. I'd do anything to have your arms around me now. When was the last time you hugged me? Or kissed me? I don't know. O God! O God! I'm going to die. I'm going to die…_

Her sobs died down, leaving her exhausted. After several minutes, she uncurled herself and sat up. She wiped her eyes dry, knowing they'd still be red and puffy, but still intending to keep up the pretence of bravery. She sat against the iron bars and waited.

Hours passed. Her feelings of fear and grief dulled into a disbelieving numbness. She closed her eyes and drifted into a semi-dose. She did not stir when she heard the door open, nor when she heard the boots approach her cage.

"Miss Reed? Y' 'wake?" a lower-class London accent asked her.

"Yes, I am," she answered, opening her eyes.

It was Spanish looking one with red bandana. Obviously not Spanish with that accent. He peered intently at her with black, piercing eyes. She peered back. His hair was black and short cropped. One ear was pierced with a long dangling silver chain and sapphire. His shirt and breeches were plain and slightly less grubby than the other pirates she'd seen so far, and his boots appeared to be polished. He wore a red sash around his waist in which was held a pistol and a cutlass. He appeared to be in his mid-twenties.

"Like what you see, luv?" he grinned lewdly. Helena just stared blandly back at him, before replying tartly:

"Actually, I do. Your probably the closest thing to clean I have seen so far on this ship. Even your captain has the breath of a rhinoceros."

The pirate smirked.

"Y' got character, luv. No doubt a' that. Impressed the cap'n, ye did. 'S why 'e's inviting ye to dinner in 'is cabin." He raised an eyebrow, posing the unspoken question. Helena just stared, her expression as blank as always.

"Have you ever felt so terrified you think you'll be sick even on an empty stomach?" she asked suddenly.

The pirate frowned at the question, clearly taken aback. Then he passed his arms through the bars and leant on the cage. He considered her, his eyes narrowing.

"Aye, that I have. All pirates must to face the next raid."

"Then do you really believe I am in any way inclined to eat or even be in the mere presence of food?"

The pirate continued to stare at her with his dark, piercing look. It was becoming quite disconcerting and she shifted nervously. Finally, he gave a tired sigh and closed his eyes, rubbing the ridge of his nose.

"Look, luv, it'd be easier fer all a' us if ye just come, savvy? 'Cause the cap'n don't take no fer an answer."

"What would he do if I did refuse?"

The pirate looked at her with his probing stare again. He opened his mouth to speak but Helena interrupted him.

"Do you know? I don't care. I really am too tired for torture, right now. So I'll just come, nice and quiet. Happy?"

The pirate stared at her again. Then he busied himself with unlocking the brig, while talking.

"Ye're a very impressive girl, Miss Reed. Ye've a lot a' courage. I was mighty impressed by your loyalty to yer father. Not many people do that fer their parents. I like ye, missy," he concluded, opening the cage and letting her out with a flourished bow. Helena smiled faintly, feeling slightly less fearful of her situation in the light of the pirate's kindness.

"And who might you be?"

"_I,_" he said regally, "am Jack Sparrow." Another flourish, with much fluttering of hands. "First Mate of the Black Pearl. Savvy?" he asked with a smirk and cocked brow.

Helena's smile widened.

"I savvy."


End file.
